


Death Isn't Death When You're Gay (a deancas post-15x19 fix-it)

by Indubitablydumb



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x18, 15x19, Angst, CANON DEANCAS, Canon Divergence, Canon Divergent, Dean Winchester - Freeform, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Fix It, Fix It Fic, Fluff, M/M, SPN - Freeform, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Supernatural Finale, Supernatural fix it, canon destiel, supernatural 15x18, supernatural 15x19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27686351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indubitablydumb/pseuds/Indubitablydumb
Summary: In which Dean DOES save Cas from the empty. Takes place after 15x19.-"The angel stays." The Empty says, voice low in a frustrated growl."The angel comes with me, or I swear to god, I will find a way to kill you if it's the last thing I do." Dean grumbles under his breath, panting for air. "And I keep my promises, you son of a bitch."
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 264





	Death Isn't Death When You're Gay (a deancas post-15x19 fix-it)

Jack has said his goodbyes. He's leaving the boys, for now, spreading his own wings. He says he needs to work things out on his own for a minute. Sam and Dean watch side by side as he moves to walk away, to leave them for- well, Jack knows how long.

Dean trembles next to Sam, clenching his fists, a shaken up bottle of carbonated sludge about to explode. He's pent up, sad and angry and he needs to say something.

"Jack- Jack, wait."

Jack turns, raising his brows in the signature confused expression that has taken up his features since he'd basically popped out as a grown man. It's warm against all odds, and that only seems to make Dean impossibly furious. How was he the only one that cared?

"Can't you, I don't know, do something about Cas?" He asks, words toppling out like jello from a carton. "I mean, Chuck brought Lucifer back from the empty, right?"

He's on the verge of tears, it's obvious. Unheard sobs shake around at the pit of his throat, turning his tone scratchy and deep. Sam looks at him through furrowed brows, a deep frown planted across his lips.

"Dean-"

"I can't." Jack says simply. "I've tried. I've called out to him, but he- I haven't gotten any luck." Jack exhales a bit, eyes softening in a manner of sympathy. "I'm sorry."

Dean nods.

"Thanks, Jack." Sam says, offering up a little wave as Jack turns for the second time and vanishes in thin air.

"Thanks, Jack." Dean says to the void.

They trudge back to the Impala, loss weighing down on their shoulders as they get closer and closer. This is it, they should be happy. They beat Chuck, everything is back to normal- son becoming God aside.

"Hey, Dean, are you- are you okay? Y'know, with Cas, and everything." Same leans against the Impala, hair falling back as he tilts his chin to glance up at the sun.

Dean frowns.

"No. No, Sam, I'm not okay. It's Cas." Dean grumbles, afraid to say anything more, because if he does he knows he's going to break out into tears. No chick flick moments.

"Yeah, Dean, listen. I know that it's Cas, okay, I get it. But you seem really torn up about it."He pauses, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "Was it, y'know, bad? Did he explode or something?"

"No, Sam, he didn't explode," Dean says, voice cracking under thick emotion. "It wasn't- okay, no. It was bad, but he didn't seem to be suffering through it or anything."

"Well, that's something. At the least, I mean." Sam pauses, rubbing down on a sun-spot stained on the impala's dark frame. "Listen, Dean, I get it. Cas was my friend, too."

"No, Sam, you don't. You don't get it." Dean says, lip quivering as he speaks. He trembles against the Impala, knees threatening to buckle under his weight. "He told me something, before he- before he went. And,

I know, I know it wasn't a good time, and I was scared, but I just wish I said it back." Sam frowns over at him.

"What did he say?"

"He told me that," Dean glares up at the sky, trying to contain his impending emotions as he talks. It's damn near impossible. "he told me that I changed him. He told me that he loved me, Sam, and I-" He takes a breath. "And I never got to tell him that I love him, too. And he's dead, and it's my fault. It's my fault."

Dean shuts his eyes, risking a shaky inhale. This is it, his big secret is out. The blunt foundation that had kept him going for years and years, unbeknownst to anybody else. Dean loves Cas.

"How long?" Sam musters up, offering Dean a sympathetic glance.

"I don't know. A while." Dean grumbles, exhaling.

"Look, it's not your fault." Sam says after a minute, looking over to meet his brother's eyes. "He did it for you. It was his decision, Dean. You know that he wouldn't want you to go around blaming it on yourself."

Dean is rendered speechless. He offers up only a small shake of his head before shuffling around the Impala and curling himself into the passenger seat. When Sam lowers himself into the car alongside him, Dean tosses over his keys, leaning against the window.

Neither of them bother to switch on the radio.

Even so, the silence is deafening. Sam nor Dean are able to turn a blind eye to the emptiness of the car, save the two of them.

It sucks.

—

Cas paces. It's all he's been able to do. He walks back and forth and back and forth and then over again.

There hadn't really been a specific waking moment as there had been the first time. One second he was standing in the bunker with Dean, the next he'd been standing in the middle of- well, the middle of nowhere. Quite literally. Something is wrong, something is obviously wrong, as he shouldn't be awake in the first place. The Empty obviously hadn't taken very much interest in his arrival, other than taking it's claim on him in an obvious moment of pure pettiness.

Still, being completely alone with himself after what had happened in the bunker is no ball game.

Dean knows. Cas' feelings, over all the years they'd known each other, had been the one secret he'd managed to bury down into the depths of his heart. The one burden he'd never even considered lifting from his name, and Dean knows all about it.

So, yeah, Cas is scared.

He knows Dean doesn't feel the same, because why would he? Still, Cas can't help but wonder- does Dean miss him? Is he angry?

Is he dead?

He hates the fact that Dean could, in fact, be dead. He hates the way that if anything does go wrong, if Chuck decides to pull the plug, there's no way that he'd know. Other than The Empty, of course- and even still, Cas has no reason to trust what it says.

So, Cas paces. He doesn't think about stopping, because he's not ready to go to sleep. Not yet.

—

The bunker is empty without Jack wandering around in search of something to do. It's empty without Cas pacing aimlessly through the library, fingertips grazing against the old spines of every book on each shelf. It's empty without some big bad screaming down in the dungeon.

Dean is holed up in his room, sitting on his bed. Miracle is lying next to him with his head wedged between Dean's knee. Dean gently scratches at the tuft of fur under miracles ear, exhaling with a soft smile as the dog nuzzles against his affection.

He doesn't know what Sam's doing out there, and in all honesty, he doesn't really care. Sam's the lucky one in this situation. Eileen is alive, Sam should be out and getting it up with her.

Except, he isn't, and Dean doesn't find this out until he's woken up by pounding at his door three hours later. He hadn't noticed that he'd even managed to fall asleep, but he's awake now. Miracle hops up from Dean's bed, toppling to the door and immediately moving to excitedly paw at the wood.

"Dean. Dean," Sam calls from the other side of the door. "Come on, Dean, we have to talk about something."

"Can't it wait, like, an hour?" Dean grumbles, watching as Miracle begins to throw himself mercilessly into the door.

"Dean, it's about Cas." Sam says, and it's all he has to say, because Dean is already twisting the lock and turning the knob to open the door. Miracle bounces out of the room with a yap of excitement, running a circle around Sam's ankles and then prancing further into the bunker.

"What about him?" Dean finally asks, ripping his eyes away from the place Miracle had just been to look up at Sam. "Why are you still here, anyways? Eileen should be getting her back blown out right now."

Sam scoffs, shaking his head.

"Dean, no." He pauses, glancing back at Dean's room. Clothes and beer bottles are scattered lazily across the ground. "I decided to do some, uh, light reading? And- I think really I found a way to get him back." 

"Sam, do not dick around with me about this." Dean says, moving to close the door. Sam firmly grabs onto the handle.

"Would I lie about this, Dean?" He asks, brows furrowed. Dean doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he can't help but hope, even if it's just the slightest bit. "I want Cas back, too."

"Fine, okay, I get it. So, how do we do this?"

"How do you do this," Sam says as they walk down the hallway leading to the library. "I have to be here to make sure you come back."

"So... I have to die?" Dean asks, posing the question like it's one of the most normal things in the world. To be fair, it kind of is. He cocks an eyebrow as Sam grabs hold of a book on the table, skimming through the pages and slamming it back down onto the surface.

"Not exactly- but also, yes, exactly." Sam says, gesturing to a paragraph on the page that Dean has no interest in reading. "You have to consume a very- very- small amount of grace. Just enough that you, you know, don't explode."

"So, I have to go all Pablo Escabar on go-go juice and then kick the can?" Dean asks, staring down at the book. Sam huffs out a laugh, nodding.

"Pretty much." Sam says, a smile ghosting over his lips. It fades when he turns to look at his brother. "Listen, Dean, I get it if you don't want to do this. I know you don't exactly have a good history with the whole angelic possession thing, so-"

"Where would we even get the grace?" Dean asks, choosing to ignore Sam's words.

Sam frowns.

"Yeah, well, that's the hard part. I'm thinking that since Michael had spent so long in your, you know, meat suit, it's possible that you have a little bit of Angel left in you." He says, nervously chewing down on his bottom lip.

Dean chokes on the complete absurdity of this, slamming his hand down on the table and leaning forward to recover.

"Sam, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. I'm going back to my room, now." He says, trying to mask the overwhelming loss of what little hope he had as he turns in the direction of his only safe haven. Sam doesn't protest.

But everything in the bunker reminds him of Cas. Not even just watching him die in the dungeon. All of the nights spent on aimless conversation, all their useless squabbles- the entire building is flooded with memories of Cas.

And Dean realizes that it isn't a losing game. Hope is, that's for sure, but even if he fails in an attempt to save Cas, it's okay. It's worth the small chance. And if he dies trying?

He doesn't really want to live, anyways.

"I'll do it," Dean says, turning back to his brother. "I'll do it. But how am I supposed get whatever it is out of me? I'm not exactly a box of angel juice, Sam."

—

"No way. No way in hell." Dean says, staring up at the cartoonishly large needle in Sam's hand with wide eyes. Except he's already strapped down into the chair, and he's already agreed to this. Not even the thought of that needle lodged into his neck can really change his mind, because all of his thoughts are occupied by Cas.

Get Cas back, or die trying.

"Dean, you don't have to do this. I don't want to do this." Sam says again, and Dean only shakes his head.

"No, Sam, I want to. I want to, just- just do it already." Dean pleads, squeezing his eyes shut, and Sam puffs his cheeks in a heavy breath.

"Alright. Alright, let's do this." He says.

He pushes the needle through Dean's skin, careful as to not break through too slow or

too fast. Sharp, cold pain explodes where the needle rests in Dean's neck, shooting a terrible ache all throughout his body. He gasps for breath, eyes squeezed tight, nails digging into palms, but he doesn't scream. Screaming would only make things difficult for the both of them. Sam slowly begins to pull the base of the plunger back, digging the needle slightly further into Dean's skin.

"I found it. I have to keep going, are you really sure about this?" Sam asks, voice crackling, because he remembers how it feels to have that same needle shoved through his skin and he hates putting his brother through the same grueling pain.

"Yes, I'm sure," Dean growls through clenched teeth, "just do it, I don't care."

Sam nods.

By the time there's enough grace in the syringe, pain driven tears are pooling down onto Dean's cheeks. They splotch up over his dusted freckles, practically burning into his skin as his head pounds in protest, but he still doesn't scream. Finally, finally, Sam yanks the needle out of Dean, leaving the man panting for air and tilting his head back in sheer relief.

"Enough?" Dean asks, neglecting to open his eyes. He's completely and utterly exhausted.

"Yeah, we have enough." Sam says, carefully pushing the surreal substance into a small vial. He pops the cork into the glass, setting it onto the table for a quick second before moving to unstrap the restraints on Dean. "You really want to do this? Anything could happen, Dean, nobody's ever done it before."

"Just give me stuff, Sam." Dean mutters, his voice rumbling low in his throat. Sam grabs both the plastic bottle of pills he'd found somewhere in the bunker and the vial of grace, placing them in Dean's outstretched hand with trembling fingers. "So I just... drink it?" Dean asks, finally looking up at Sam, who nods.

Dean pulls the cork from the vial with a pop, bringing it to his lips and tipping his head. It shoots down his throat like snow falling from a mountain, cold and piercing and loud, it's like trying to consume TV static. His throat makes a loud gurgling noise at the magical substance, and he goes to swallow, but it stings.

"Good luck, Dean. You can do this, I know you can," Sam says, but it's more of a gesture towards himself rather than Dean, who pops the lid from the bottle of pills with ease.

"See you on the flip-side, little brother." Dean says, sticking Sam a thumbs-up and swallowing all the pills down dry. Sam huffs a laugh, taking both of the bottles from Dean's hand before strapping him back down into the chair for safe measure.

"Alright, I'll, uh, go wait outside. I'll check back in a couple of minutes." Sam says, exhaling shakily. Dean hums in agreement, watching Sam scurry out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

He looks up at the ceiling, watching the cracks along the bunker walls to meld together as he allows his eyes to unfocus. The pills don't take very long to take effect, but they do take long enough to draw the whole thing out. He's shaking like a mad-man, the bashing pain in his head alone enough to pierce through the veil itself. He can practically feel the chemicals burning through his stomach line, and he's scared, he doesn't want to do this all alone, but it's for Cas, it's always been for Cas.

He retches violently, except there's nothing for him to hurl, he hasn't eaten in days, so it's just another source of pain to cross a tally through. He trembles even harder, his eyes rolling back into his head. He feels overwhelming moisture in his mouth and drool and foam and acid frothing up in his throat, but he doesn't scream.

There's a blinding light and a shrill screech in his ears, it calls to him, curses him and tosses him this way and that, except he's not moving, he's tied up to the chair, so how could he possibly be moving?

The pain comes to an abrupt stop, and Dean is plunged into black. It's not darkness, per say, it's the embodiment of nothing, it's everything to ever exist and everything that ceases to exist all at once.

"Winchester? What are you doing here?" A voice asks. Dean snaps into awareness, eyeing the figure in front of him.

"Meg?" He breathes out, eyes darting around space only to be met with absolutely nothing. Cas is here?

"Sorry, bucko, I'm not your little demon pal." Meg- no, not Meg- says, tapping it's fingernails against it's chin. "How did you get here?"

"I- no, it doesn't matter. I'm here for the angel." Dean says, voice strategically firm in a desperate attempt contain his fear. The Empty rolls it's eyes, allowing a bored sigh to escape it's stolen lips.

"God, I know. You better find a way to bounce out, pretty boy, because he's not leaving and I don't like little teeny bugs like you prancing around my playground." It says. Dean opens his mouth to speak, the words forming in his throat, but they cease to exist when The Empty jerks up. "Great, now he knows that you're here."

"What do you-" Dean begins to say, and then he's gasping for breath, an imaginary hand squeezing the air out of his throat. It's cold, freezing cold, and the blood rushing to his head doesn't seem any warmer. He splutters, trembling under the grip of The Empty's power.

"You see, Dean," The Empty says, taking a step towards him. "when your little time bomb popped in and decided to explode, he woke everyone up. Do you know how annoying it is to have everyone awake? I need my beauty sleep, boy."

Dean pushes out a breathless cough, shooting a glob of spit in The Empty's direction. It lands at it's feet, and it doesn't seem very amused. The grip on Dean's throat tightens, and he doubles over, falling onto his knees.

"Killing you won't put everyone to sleep, but maybe it will finally shut your stupid boyfriendup." The Empty says, glaring down at Dean with a grimy smirk.

"Yeah?" Dean chokes out, scratching at his throat and trying to get any air possible into his lungs. "Well, I have leverage."

The Empty's grip slightly weakens.

"Yeah? What leverage?" It asks, a cold laugh emerging from somewhere in it's chest. It takes another step towards him, reaching down to yank at his hair. He flinches back in pain, scoffing up at her.

"I so happen to be one of God's, y'know, father figures," He says, playing a smile on his lips. "and we aren't playing by Chuck's rules anymore, sweetheart. So go ahead and kill me, but-" He chokes out a laugh, "he'll probably be royally pissed. Sure, you can have me, but you can also kiss a wink of sleep bye-bye for all hell of eternity."

The Empty doesn't reply, but it's grip on his throat releases. He inhales deeply, doing his best to choke down an impending coughing fit.

"The angel stays." The Empty says, voice low in a frustrated growl.

"The angel comes with me, or I swear to god, I will find a way to kill you if it's the last thing I do." Dean grumbles under his breath, panting for air. "And I keep my promises, you son of a bitch."

The Empty is gone. Well, everything's gone, everything that nothing is, at least. Dean's eyes shoot open, and he gasps for air, looking around. He's back in the bunker, strapped down in the chair just as he had been before.

"Dean? Dean!" Sam says, quickly jumping out of his chair and moving to undo the straps binding Dean.

"Cas, where's Cas?" Dean asks, looking up at Sam expectantly.

Sam only shakes his head, helping Dean out of the chair. Dean coughs out a gag, dropping to his hands and knees and hurling all of his stomach's contents over the ground.

"Dean, hey, I'll go and get you a glass of water-" Sam quickly says, but Dean only shakes his head, holding his hand up in protest.

"No, no, just- just give me a minute." He says, shuddering heavily. He stays there for a minute, trying to process all that had happened.

He hadn't been able to save Cas. The whole thing had been completely pointless.

"Okay, I'm- I'm good." Dean whispers under his breath, "give me a hand, will you?" Sam quickly nods, letting Dean wrap an arm around his shoulder.

"Alright, stand up on three," Sam mumbles, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. "One, two- yeah, there we go." Dean heavily groans, letting Sam lead them through the halls.

A loud yap emerges from somewhere in the bunker. One yip, then two and then three and then suddenly bursts into a whole fit of assorted barking noises.

"It's just the damn dog," Dean says, rubbing at his temples and releasing his grip on Sam before dropping down to sit at the kitchen table with a huff. Sam shoots him a concerned look, moving to the fridge.

The barking doesn't stop. In fact, it grows louder and louder and then Miracle bursts into the kitchen, jumping up excitedly to paw at Dean's side and yap right in his ear.

"What's the matter, little dude?" Dean asks, reaching down to run a hand through Miracle's fur.

"How did you two manage to get a dog?" A voice asks.

Dean knows, of course he knows, but he doesn't want to look up. He doesn't want to be disappointed, doesn't want to see if it's real. But Miracle is still bouncing around the kitchen, tumbling this way and that, and Dean has to look up, because it's Cas.

The two lock eyes.

"I'm going to go out and take Miracle for a walk, yeah?" Sam says, nervously swallowing and giving the angel in the kitchen a nice pat on the shoulder. "It's great to see you, Cas."

Cas nods, flashing a small smile at Sam and watching, neck turned slightly, as the taller man walks out of the room. Dean allows his eyes to trail over Cas', taking in the blue of his eyes and the pink of his cheeks and the stupid trench coat and everything that is just so Cas.

The angel turns back to Dean, swallowing nervously, because he hadn't planned for this.

But Dean had.

With trouble, Dean lifts himself from his chair, stumbling towards Cas and throwing his arms around the angel. Cas' name leaves Dean's lips, and he doesn't even notice, doesn't even care. Cas is here, he's here and alive and Dean is in love with him, Dean got him back.

"What did you do to get into the empty?" Cas asks after a minute, and Dean feels like he's been punched in the gut. He doesn't let go of Cas, though, because he's too sick to hold his own weight. He knows that Cas probably senses this. If not, he can most certainly feel Dean jittering, leaning on the angel for support, and this is probably why he had asked.

Still, Dean thinks, does he not want to see me? Is he angry that I got him out? Does he want to go back?

"Doesn't matter," Dean says, voice cracking under emotion, "I got you back, Cas."

"Dean, I don't know what you did, but it's obviously taking a number on you." Cas says, grabbing Dean's shoulders and looking him up and down. "How do you feel? Do you smell yellow?"

And Dean breaks out into tears, because god, he misses Cas. He misses Cas' voice, and his eyes, and the way he highlights situations with shit vocabulary. Cas pulls him back into a hug, holding Dean as he sobs.

"Cas," Dean says, sniffling, "Cas, I got somethin' to tell you."

"Dean-" Cas starts, and Dean shakes his head.

"No, no, just- just let me say this, okay? I need to say this." He inhales, fresh tears forming in his eyes. "Me too, Cas. I love you, I love you too, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier. That's why I chucked myself up the universe's ass, you know, because I need you. We beat Chuck, Cas, but I can't just live without you."

"Dean, it's okay, I know you don't-" Cas tries, but stops with a shaky breath when Dean brings up his hands to hold Cas' face.

"No, you don't know. I'm in love with you, you friggin nut." Dean says, tears tracking down his own face, and Cas lean's against Dean's touch, exhaling.

"I love you too, Dean." He whispers, because it's all he can say, it's all he knows. Dean smiles through his tears, and it's the most genuine smile Cas has seen come from Dean in years. He did that. Cas did that. "Okay, um- Dean. Your exhaustion is radiating off of you, so, I think you should get some sleep."

Dean frowns. He knows that Cas is right, but he fears that if he lets the angel out of his sight, he just might go into cardiac arrest. So Dean being Dean, he fights it.

"No, I'm, uh- I'm fine." He says, moving to step away from Cas to show that he can, in fact, fend for himself, but his knees wobble under him and he grabs right back onto Cas' shoulder with a saturated laugh. "No, actually, I think I neglected the fact that the only thing left in my system right now is pills, so."

With no warning, Cas lifts Dean from the ground, scooping him up in his arms and beginning to carry him in the direction of his room.

"Hey! Put me down, Cas, I'm fine-" Dean barks,trying to wiggle himself out of the angel's grip, but Cas only shakes his head.

"No." He says, plain as day, and Dean feels his face grow red.

"I hate you so much right now." Dean mumbles, crossing his arms.

"That's not what you said five minutes ago." Cas mutters, and Dean looks up at him, frowning.

"Yeah, I know it's not. Have a sense of humor, will you- hey! No, you are not putting me in my damn bed!" Dean shrieks, but it's no use, because Cas has the upper hand right now and he's already lowering Dean onto his mattress.

"Better?" Cas asks, and Dean rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever." He says, and it's honest. He hadn't exactly despised being carried to his room.

"Alright, then. I'll going to go and wait for Samto get back," Cas turns to leave, but Dean can't take that, he doesn't want to be away from Cas for another second.

"Hey, no. Sam can wait, come on," Dean mutters, hoping Cas will understand, and Cas swallows.

"You want me to...?" He trails off, standing there awkwardly. Dean huffs out a laugh.

"Don't make this weird." Dean says, and Cas nods. He lowers himself to sit at the ends of Dean's bed. "Cas, the friggin' dog sleeps there. Come on, really." Dean wraps his arms around Cas' shoulders, laying back and allowing Cas to rest his head on Dean's chest.

Everything else can wait. Feeding the dog, Sam could do that. Feeding himself, Dean couldn't care less, but Cas will probably make him eat something later on. For now, it's just the two of them. Dean is with Cas, and that's all that could ever matter to him, at least in the moment. After days of calling out in the middle of the night and prayers that fall over deaf ears, Cas is actually here.

He's here, and he knows that Dean loves him. In the end, that's all that really matters, isn't it?


End file.
